


Fatherly Duties

by atleasttheweathersnice



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander WashingSon, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Washington, Canon Era, Gen, George WashingDad, Humor, bless his heart, he tries though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6446299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atleasttheweathersnice/pseuds/atleasttheweathersnice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George tries to perform his fatherly duties and give Hamilton The Talk<sup>TM</sup></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatherly Duties

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to be a part of "look into your eyes and the sky's the limit" but then I decided that it doesn't really fit in with the general tone of that, so here it is on its own.

* * *

“You asked to see me, Your Excellency?”

Hamilton is hovering in the doorway, looking very much like only a tremendous amount of effort can keep him from fidgeting.

“Yes,” George says, putting aside the letter he’s reading, “Take a seat.”

Apprehensively, Hamilton slowly approaches George’s desk. “Have I done something wrong?”

Why is it, George wonders, that his son seems convinced that the only reason George would call him is to scold him?

“Not at all,” he says, “I simply wish to have a word with you.”

Hamilton still looks slightly suspicious, as if George might be giving false words of reassurance only to pounce on him once his guard is down, and George can feel another few pounds added to the heavy weight he has had in his chest since he found out Hamilton is his son. A weight that contains all the ills and suffering that has befallen the boy because George wasn’t there to protect him from them.

Still, Hamilton sits down, folds his hands in his lap and gives George a politely inquisitive look.

“I have heard…” George begins, “That is… I understand that you and the other boys sometimes frequent the taverns in the city.”

His son stiffens, a brief look of resigned hurt passing over his features. “Yes, but I can assure you that it has in no way affected neither mine nor any of the others’ work or hours, and if you do feel that it has, you should know that they are only passive participants and the blame should fall solely on me. I will…”

“Alexander,” George interrupts him, “I told you, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He hesitates, unsure of the proper way to reassure the young man. “If I am upset with you, you will know it. I simply wished to speak to you…” He clears his throat. “Well… due to… circumstances, I was not there during your boyhood, and I know that your… the man you thought to be your father left when you were still quite young and… there are things that it is a father’s duty to ensure his son knows.”

Hamilton doesn’t look as if George’s stilted attempts at nearing the subject is particularly enlightening to him, and deciding that he might as well approach the issue head-on, George clears his throat again.

“I know that there are at many of these establishments… women.”

“Sir!” Hamilton looks completely scandalized and a fierce blush is clearly visible on his fair skin.

George holds up a hand to silence him, because if he lets himself be interrupted he might not manage to say what he wants to. “It is completely natural for a young man to have… urges, as well as to act on them, and I completely understand that you might…”

He trails off and lamely waves his hand in an attempt to express his meaning. He has been in combat, for Christ’s sake: surely speaking about these things shouldn’t be an insurmountable task? Hamilton also, however, looks like he would much rather be engaged in a gunfight with a dozen redcoats than continuing this discussion: even his ears are red and he is gripping the edges of the chair hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

“Sir, I… What… I’m… ” he sputters.

“However,” George continues, raising his voice slightly to speak over his son’s uncharacteristically incoherent protests, “there are… possibilities of such… relations that a man must be aware of. I realize this might seem hypocritical coming from me, but unplanned children…”

“Bastards,” Hamilton mutters, half under his breath. He seems, for some reason, to go out of his way to refer to himself with the degrading word whenever he is speaking only to George. Especially, George thinks, after he realized that George doesn’t like it.

“Unplanned children are one possible outcome, but there are real dangers as well. Certain illnesses…”

“Sir!” Hamilton sounds close to panicked, almost shouting the word. “I assure you, I am familiar with the hazards of… of these things and there is no need to discuss it. At all. In any way.”

“You’re certain?” George says, “There are means of protecting oneself…”

“I know!” Hamilton interrupts him quickly, “I know. I am… that is… I have learned of these things elsewhere.”

George frowns. “Perhaps I should tell you anyway, to make sure you have the right of it. Boys sometimes do not know as much as they would like to have others believe.”

“There’s _really_ no need.” Hamilton is close to begging by now and is staring at George with such a pleading look that part of him wants to immediately give the boy whatever he might ask for.

“If you’re certain…” he says slowly.

“I am! Completely certain. Positive!”

“Very well,” George says after a moment. He is inclined to trust Hamilton. The man has managed to learn somehow, after all, how to performed advanced feats of mathematics, so he might be expected to have gathered this knowledge for himself as well. “Are there… do you have any questions?”

“No!” Hamilton says very quickly, frantically shaking his head. George cannot help but smile slightly. It’s heartwarming, somehow, to see his son acting like the almost-boy he is.

“You’re dismissed, then,” he says and Hamilton shoots to his feet with unprecedented speed.

“Your Excellency,” he mumbles and makes what can only very charitable be called a bow before he bolts out of the room as if he’s afraid George might change his mind and call him back to continue the discussion.

At least, George thinks as the door slams shut behind Hamilton, he now knows how to effectively get his aide to leave him alone.


End file.
